


flower town

by pizzaman183



Category: HDFT (Happy Days in Flower Town)
Genre: Drowning, F/M, M/M, Memory Loss, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, but dont worry about it, first work here ever woooo, it gets a lot worse later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizzaman183/pseuds/pizzaman183
Summary: Cadmus Finch is a humble man who wakes up in a beautiful town with no idea how he got there, with his only memories being his name, a few things about himself, and two familiar people whose names he cannot remember...With new friends to meet and a mystery to solve, there is much fun to be had in Flowerland, the sunniest place in the world! :-)(Idea exploration. Credit to my amazing partner who isn't on here for the creation of a couple characters such as Stephy and Canary!)
Relationships: Cadmus Finch/Stephan Grey
Kudos: 2





	flower town

**Author's Note:**

> hey kids whats up
> 
> if u actually find this fic ur pretty deep into the ao3 rabbit hole lol
> 
> anyways enjoy, this is just my ocs being dorks and stuff 
> 
> :-)

Eveningtime, the man at his desk decided, twirling his pen to a beat only he could hear, was his favorite.

It was not too bright; Finch was not exactly a fan of the burning summer sun, intruding his workspace with its great yellow rays of pure fire that seemed to melt his arms and legs off at times. It wasn't too dark, either, as the blue midnight tended to bring a chill that turned his heart to ice, and, despite Finch longing to work terrible hours into the night to satisfy his sweet creative rushes, the frosty bite of the moon alone never failed to send him, grumbling incoherently, into bed.

Evening, however, was perfect.

In the fall, especially-fall was Finch's favorite time of year. He sighed in content as he leaned back in his chair, allowing daydreams of orange and red leaves sprinkling onto the sidewalk to give his busy brain a rest for a moment. With a slight frown at the realization that he still had a month or two to go until September, the cheery part of his mind was quick to remind him that he would, most definitely, last that long...and, for now, he could bask in the dim lights of the evening and savor these precious moments of the day before then.

It was simply divine, as he examined his desk, only half in the present-time; a single book lay in the middle, lacking its usual dusty coat that it wore when Finch was unmotivated. A single pen that usually was nestled beside it now wound up in Finch's hand, drumming impatiently on the wooden surface while he pondered what on Earth to write!

Suddenly, quick as a flash, images flooded his eyes—

Visions of dragons and warriors and princesses and other dimensions banished all other train of thought, and, without a moment's hesitation, he hastily began to scribble it all down. 

"Rushes," Stephan had called it, unaware of what dreams could lie in a humble writer's mind. Although Finch knew for certain that often Stephan could barely understand his hellish rambling on paper of whimsical stories and quests, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he relived the fond memory of Stephan enjoying it anyway, as he was always interested in what Finch had to say.

Stephy was funny like that, always asking questions and admiring the villains (how cute) in Finch's work, however whenever Stephan put his mind to the art of writing, it was research instead. Dedicated to mythical creatures and theories, he was, keeping it all hidden in journals that only Finch's patient eyes could see.

Finch looked back to his own book, now sloppily set up, nearly about to fall off his desk, and he straightened it up in slight panic of being disorganized. He scanned through about 7 pages of the idea-dumping this poor notebook had taken, his words slightly smudged in his frenzy, although he didn't mind. Usually, he was very careful to make his words neat and proper, but during an hour like this, he cared little about the appearance and more about the content inside.

Yes, he had done it for the night! Finch challenged himself about a year ago to write something every day (with effort, mind you) and so far, he had only missed a day or two. His little perfectionist heart sobbed with guilt, but those days had been spent likely holding Canary and Stephy back from doing something stupid that got them all in trouble...

Finch spun in his chair to glance at the clock on the wall behind him, pen still tucked tightly beneath his fingers, and noticed with alarm that it was past his bedtime.

(Yes, Finch is an adult—but unlike Canary or Stephan, who are awake for ungodly hours into the night doing who knows what, Finch is responsible, at least about his sleep schedule and many other things, and takes pride in saying he has never pulled an all nighter in his life.)

As if on cue, the familiar feeling of tiredness began to creep behind his eyes, as he set the trusty little pen down.

"There is more to be done tomorrow," he mumbled, quietly, to himself and to the pen, as if the writing utensil were disappointed to not be of further use. 

Until then, Finch thought, sweet dreams, my home! I will be here tomorrow, of course, and all night, sleeping in my bed.

What a funny man he was, said the little nagging thought in the back of his brain, thinking as though someone were listening...

And with a flurry of comfortable pajamas and final preperations before soft dreams and blissful sleep came, he had settled in bed, with a bedtime story (also known as a massive book, in Grey's terms, who was appalled that Finch even bothered to read such a thing before bed,) tucked comfortably on his chest, although he was in no mood to pick it up.

Sleep came easy.

Finch did not notice the small, furry animal dart past his window, or the same creature poking its nose on the glass to take a look in.

Finch did not notice the rabbit, sighing in relief, and he did not notice it disappear into the bushes outside.

He did not notice the little bunny vanish into the night.

\----------

It is a quiet day, and Finch likes it that way.

Finch believes that between a person and a person, there is no need to babble without purpose. There is no need to fill up a silence with nothing, in his opinion. Oh, no. To him, a comfortable silence between him and the other man on the couch beside him is a sign of trust, a sign that talking is not always necessary, however fun it may be on a rainy day like this.

Stephan shuffles a bit to get more comfortable, and Finch notices that he dares to come a little closer. With that new position, Finch can see a little more of his pale face, his expression unreadable and eyes narrowed. Finch briefly forgets the book in his lap as his gaze traces over Stephans features. It was rare to see him relaxed like this, and not caught up with something in the lab, or struggling to handle that robot child, or dealing with worries of his own.

It was not rare for them to share a moment like this, however, as Stephy had been coming over a lot while he was on break, lately. Finch could understand why. Being in such a bustling atmosphere like Stephan's lab would be draining, he thought...even if he didn't always know what went on in there.

Finch's concern began to grow as he spotted dark bags under Stephan's eyes. Well, he thought with an internal sigh, time to break the precious silence.

"Do you think you've been working too much?" Comes Finch's voice, soft enough to not be jarring but also audible. He watches Stephy's expression change; not much, but noticable if you looked hard enough.

"It's fine." There it was! Bingo! The old Stephan Grey brushing off others' concerns for his wellbeing. Finch had seen and heard it countless times before, and he wasn't letting it cut their conversation short now! This was important!! Oh, goodness, what if he was sleep deprived...? Finch had been worrying about the man, who had insisted on spending the night in the lab for a few days now.

"I'm not so sure about that, my dear...you do look incredibly tired." Finch gave a small reassuring smile to convey that he was not angry, only worried, as Stephy looked over at him. It was true; he looked exhausted, red eyes losing focus easily and appearing darkened. Finch briefly wondered how much sleep he lost due to his work...

"'M fine." Stephan rubbed his eye half-heartedly, leaning his head against Finch's shoulder and closing his eyes. "Just a bit sleepy..."

"Okay, hun..." Finch's smile grew as Stephy trailed off, and decided not to prod further. At this rate, he was bound to have someone to nap with today, and, as he looked down, he saw Stephy's face slowly turn neutral as he drifted off rather quickly. Finch gave him a gentle pat on the head and he smiled a bit, scooting even closer, and Finch marveled at how he must have had to been extremely comfortable to fall asleep so easily...

Finch memorized the sight and stored it away in his brain. It was days like these he cherished truly, and he pondered for a moment what Canary might be up to right now, but he saved that for later. Maybe he would be able to see her soon...yes, yes, if she were not traveling anywhere with her band, the three of them, Stephan included, could do something fun together...like a picnic! Yes, a picnic, and Finch would make sandwiches...

...but a little glance at the sleeping man next to him was enough to shush his brain for just a second.

Maybe he'd doze off, right here...

First, he would let this moment sink in. He had a lot of life left to live, after all, so why not soak it up?

:-)


End file.
